A/N: Thank you so, so much for all of your reviews! Please keep on doing so. Erm, there are still several loose end plotholes going on that I'm aware of so please refrain from shouting at me for not explaining things just yet! All should be explained by at least the end of the fanfic and if it isn't then you have permission to graciously inform me and I'll guiltily edit something to solve the problem. I'm a bit worried that this chappie isn't as funny as some previous ones as my other fanfics may have an effect. To those lovely reviewers who make suggestions for there to be a female addition to the characters here, thank you, but am afraid I have no value for them in this particular fic. If I do a sequel to this, guaranteed there shall be at least one female character .
"Right," Jack said at last. "I think I've got it this time. You were an 'essian mercenary with an unhealthy taste for lopping off people's 'eads. You died an' got yer own 'ead cut off and were…what was the word you used? Ah, lounging happily in your grave. Then someone…stole…your 'ead, brought you back from Hell, and made you 'ave to go around nabbing off with other people's 'eads, just so's it would look like you 'ad some legendary grudge. That about right?"
Exhausted from the half hour of gesticulating his death-story at the not-so-vocally-challenged pirate, the horseman lay flat out on his back. He raised a weak hand and stuck up his thumb in accord.
Captain Sparrow let out a 'pfft' noise before remarking, "Good luck with that one, mate. Seems like there's far too many 'eads in there for my fancy. You'll 'ave a hard affair tryin' to find someone with the brains to solve that little conundrum."
Just then the travellers from the elevator arrived, Constable Crane – still plastered head to toe in dried chocolate – trying vainly to head the line. His supposed cowardice had not won him any favours. Once again his usually astute powers of observation failed him as he saw the horseman lying prone at Jack's feet.
"I must commend you Mr Sparrow," he exclaimed, agog. "You've single-handedly defeated a monster driven with an age of brutal vengeance."
The horseman sat up.
"Not exactly," said Jack.
Ichabod's blood ran cold. William and Edward stood either side of him with expressions of bewilderment.
"Explain," Crane demanded, barely able to take his eyes off the headless spirit as it got up quite casually.
"Spell, Mr Crane," the pirate replied. The pause from his listeners made him further, "'e was under a spell."
"What spell?"
Jack spent the next few minutes describing everything he'd learnt from his mime conversation with the horseman, causing the constable to feel just that little bit more disappointed with himself.
"I'm sure I would have arrived at that conclusion given enough time," Ichabod grumbled.
"Irrefutably, Mr Crane," said Jack with a smirk. "Right then, are we all clear? Does anyone 'ave any more questions?"
"Yes." Crane scowled at the pirate. "Pray tell me in what textbook does it say that the English language is to be punctuated at every opportunity with the word 'savvy'? Come to think of it, is that even a real word?"
Jack smiled over gritted teeth.
"Allow me to repeat. Does anyone have any more questions with regards to our previously hostile acquaintance?"
"Weren't Hessians German?" Mr Wonka asked.
"What?"
"I thought the Hessian mercenaries were German. How is it he can understand you?"
The pirate pulled a face of consideration and turned to the horseman. The response could only be described as 'jazz hands'.
"Magic, apparently."
"That's a lame excuse," William said, but he shrugged and wandered off amongst his machines.
The rest of them enjoyed an awkward silence. Edward chose to investigate the enormous steel tank nearby, through the windows of which he had seen some curiously colourful globes. Ichabod remained opposite Jack and his new 'friend', his frown almost as rigid as his stance.
"Too much salt in your grog, Bodders?" Sparrow grinned.
"You're quite certain he won't try to take our heads, are you?" Crane said sternly.
"He doesn't want our 'eads. 'e never did. If someone's been controlling 'im back where you came from, mark my words, they 'aven't a clue where 'e's gone so they can't bloody well send 'im after us, can they?"
Ichabod folded his arms.
"Fine. Then why did he pursue us in the first place?"
"Wouldn't you be a bit temperamental waking up inside a metal box and seeing a load of strangely-dressed people gawping like you're from the circus? The poor man's got 'is 'ead in one world and 'is body in another and you expect 'im to think straight!"
No, I expect him to think like a murderous Hessian, Ichabod thought. Just as well he left his head behind. Of course! Without a brain, what could tell the horseman's body to harm anyone? Then again, its motivation had to be coming from somewhere…
Edward stopped poking the floating balls and looked over at the speakers.
"So he's not going to kill us?" he asked tonelessly.
"'e doesn't want to kill any of us," Jack insisted.
The horseman tapped him on the shoulder and pointed at the constable.
"Oh, except you Mr Crane," Sparrow added.
"What?" Ichabod squeaked. "Why me?"
"He thinks you're a pansy."
Mr Wonka grasped a handful of honey-coloured sweets from the funnel of a squat machine and slipped them into his coat pocket. He moved back to the small gathering in the centre of the room, two of them shaking with laughter. He cleared his throat for attention.
"When you're done messin' with my Everlasting Gobstoppers, Mr Edward sir, could ya join us for a sec?"
The boy cast his eyes down guiltily and trudged into the circle.
"I think we've had near enough excitement for today, gentlemen," William continued. "If you'll all truck on down and follow me, we can get fixin' that darn thingamajigger of mine and get you all home."
In the quiet moment that followed, someone's stomach gurgled.
Wonka, who had been heading back towards the elevator, spun on his heel and searched for the culprit. No one owned up. However, Jack sniggered at Ichabod's back.
"Okay, I give. We can eat first, 'kay?"
The room breathed a sigh of relief.
"Mr Wonka, I could kiss you," Jack declared.
"Please don't," said the chocolatier, and hurried out of the room.
